Pompeii
by ladywarlock
Summary: Merlin and Morgana run into each other in the modern world, only Morgana doesn't remember anything.


"What are you writing?"

"Our story."

"Doesn't it hurt?"

"It's painful and bitter but it's worth it. I write it down as best as I can, as truthfully as I can. I capture our memories on dry pages so that they'll outlive us. This story about us, our loves and our triumphs and our defeats and our hopes and our screams and these dreams we cling to until their edges fray. I've begun to realize that it's not just our story, but the story of everyone. These little letters could never hope to capture it perfectly, but then again maybe imperfection is really perfect, and then again maybe it doesn't matter so long as you remember when you read it. So long as you understand. Understand that in the chaos of my time on this earth, you had a part to play, whether it hurt or healed, and I am grateful. Hopefully, and I say this with my fingers crossed so tightly it hurts, someone else might learn from our story, relate to it, make it theirs. This story about a perfect life, an utterly normal life, that was extraordinary because it was simply that. This magnificent, crazed life that might not seem like much. Its dragons live only in subtext now and its heroes don't wear armor anymore, but somehow this average life dreamed of being an adventure and so it became one. And it is an adventure I'm glad to have shared with you."

"Welcome to the Pompeii exhibition. The British Museum is honored to have received these priceless artifacts from our friends in Italy, and we are excited to share them with you. And so now I welcome you to the remnants of a past long gone but not forgotten. Throughout the afternoon you'll learn about the city that once was, and how one day its course was altered by fire and ash. I hope you will come to know Pompeii just as I have, and revere it as it deserves. I'll remind you again, please turn off all cell phones and cameras. Any flash photography could damage the artifacts or set off the alarms. Stay with the group and tell me if your headset stops working so we can get it replaced. Let's begin."

The guide waved the little red flag high in the air and led the way into the busy museum.

"This is so stupid. I don't understand why as fashion majors we have to look at a whole bunch of old pottery. I don't mind looking at a few paintings but seriously? We're not studying history the last time I checked," Morgause muttered, muting her head-set to drown the guide's chirpy voice. "Besides, I'm starving.

Morgana shook her head, following quickly behind the group as the pair began to lag behind. "While I agree with you on the hungry part, I find this all quite fascinating. Think of all the cool things we could learn."

"Yeah yeah yeah…sure." Morgause popped her gum, suddenly catching sight of a tall, ragged-looking boy up ahead. Raising a delicate eyebrow, she elbowed Morgana. "Now that is something I'd like to learn about."

The dark haired girl at her side only rolled her eyes. "Go on. Flirt."

Morgause flashed a grin before skipping over to the boy's side, linking her arm with his and meeting his eyes with a sexy smile. Behind them, Morgana sighed and turned up her head set, listening in to all the stories as she passed by the age old artifacts.

They stopped at a glass enclosure, two skeletons housed inside. The guide droned on about how perfectly the ash had preserved the bodies before waving the little flag to move the group along. Morgana stayed behind, walking closer the gleaming glass. A small plaque on the side named the scene _Eternal embrace._

Morgana understood why.

The two grey skeletons were facing each other, both in a fetal position. Their limbs were intertwined, as though in their final moments all they wanted was to pull each other closer. As though they could become one as the fire raced past them, and somehow as one they could be safe. Morgana's mind floated to what it must have been like. To lay with someone in your final moments as chaos reigned around you, holding on to another as though they were a lifeline. Then to have your love forever preserved for all to behold, and all to admire. There was something beautiful about it, in a tragic way of course, but still beautiful all the same.

Morgana tore her gaze from the lovers, looking around to rejoin the group. She found herself alone in the room. Quietly moving forward, she searched for a familiar face. That's when a tall boy found his way into the room, dressed in a long, dark coat.

_He might work here. _"Hi," she called out. "Sorry do you work here? Because I've just been separated from my group—"

She stopped suddenly as he reached out and grabbed her wrists tightly, harshly, his hands like steel against her skin.

"Hey—"

"Who are you?" he snapped, leaning low into her face. His blue eyes were like flame, burning with an intensity that Morgana had never seen before.

"M…Mo…Morgana Fey," she stuttered, trying to pull away from him.

"And do you know me? Tell me!" he looked wildly at her.

"No! I've never seen you before in my life!" Morgana cried out, pulling away from him and staggering backwards. "Who the hell are you and what the fuck is your problem?"

The boy still stared at her, studying her features with an unsettling intensity. "How can you be here? It's not possible. Why here?" Shock edged his jagged face, the dark circles under his eyes defined as he looked at her. He suddenly fell silent, and it was as though someone had poured defeat over him, dousing the fire in his eyes. He seemed to age with every passing moment, his once tall stance shrinking as he curled inwards into himself. When he finally turned back to her Morgana was shocked at the age in his wavering gaze.

"You don't remember me? You don't know my face? You can't recognize me? Not my face, not my eyes, not my voice? Nothing?" his voice was choked, a horrified whisper.

Morgana was still for a moment, looking at the figure before her. She felt nothing. The raven hair was unfamiliar, the high cheekbones, the deep blue eyes. His voice, with its lilting accent, was alien to her ears.

"I'm sorry, but I don't know you." She whispered.

He nodded, looking down at his leather shoes. When he turned back to her, Morgana caught her breath. _There's something tragic and beautiful about him too. _

"I'm sorry for bothering you. You just—you just reminded me of someone I once knew. I thought—forget about it. I'm sorry for scaring you. I'm sorry." He breathed, holding her gaze for a moment longer before staggering backwards and moving quickly away from her.

Morgana remained frozen for a moment, heart and mind racing. _That was weird. _

"Hey, Morgana. Why are you still here?" Morgause sauntered over to her, the boy she had been flirting with waiting for her at the door. "I turned around and you weren't there….What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I'm fine…I just…Some guy bumped into me. He said he knew me—kinda. I don't know. It was weird."

"Whatever, he was probably high or something. Let's go before the Proff notices."

Morgana looked up at her friend, but all she could see was the boy's haunted eyes. Taking a deep breath, she shook her head.

"You go on ahead, I need to do something first."

"Morgana-"

The girl ignored her, moving quickly down the labyrinth of corridors. She hastily dropped off her headset before running out the glass doors of the museum. The cold, bitter autumn air bit her skin as she twisted and turned, trying to find his silhouette in the crowd. Wind grabbed at her hair, blowing it around her like a darkened halo. Then she saw his bent shoulders as he hurried across the other side of the street before disappearing in an alleyway. Morgana raced down the street, slipping past honking cars before skidding into the small passage.

"Hey!" she shouted, calling out in the darkness. A small sliver of grey sunlight slid its way through the tall buildings, casting long shadows around her. The rain from the morning puddled in the uneven pavement, reflecting the stormy clouds up above.

Morgana found him curled up on the side of a building in a tiny alley off of the main passage. Darkness cradled his shaking form, and she paused for a moment as she heard his heaving breaths.

_There's no turning back now. _"Hey…" she called out gently, warning him of her presence.

The stranger slowly looked up at her, dazed, as though Morgana had caught him in a dream. His eyes were haunted, flickering with emotions the girl didn't understand—recognition, uncertainty, confusion, anger….remorse.

Taking a deep breath, Morgana sunk to her knees before him, meeting his startled gaze. "You looked upset when you left…really upset. I just wanted to make sure you were alright."

His head tilted in confusion. "Why would you care?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"I'm a stranger. You don't know me."

"But you thought you knew me, and that means we have some kind of connection?" She gave him a small smile. "What's your name?"

The boy paused, taking a moment to take her in. Morgana tried not to shift under his searching gaze, keeping her breath slow even as her heart thudded loudly in her chest.

"Merlin." He finally said. "Merlin Emrys."

"Strange name—not that I'm one to talk. Your parents were Arthurian fans?"

Merlin smiled weakly. "In a fashion."

"Mine were," she said with a laugh. "I don't understand why someone would choose to name someone Morgana in this day and age, but what the hell. It's funny to see people at Starbucks trying to say it."

"I think it's a beautiful name," Merlin replied softly and Morgana froze. _There's something about him. _

The sky thundered above them, a warning, before rain drops began to fall. Slowly, pitter-pattering over the dirty pavement. One cool drop found its way down Morgana's face, and she wiped it away quickly like a tear.

"We'd better head inside," Morgana told him gently, rising and offering her hand to the strange boy.

He took it, rising to his full height. _God, he's tall. _

On cue, the rain began to pour from the pregnant sky and Morgana pulled at Merlin's hand. They began to run down the alley, slipping and sliding on the slick pavement. Making their way to the main street, Morgana looked around before spotting an Italian restaurant nearby. The promise of warmth beckoned her and Morgana tugged Merlin over to the door. They spilled in with other customers eager to escape the rain, the smell of freshly baked bread reminding Morgana of her earlier hunger.

Turning awkwardly at him, Morgana cursed herself for her stupidity. _What are you doing?_

"So…do you want to explain everything to me over dinner?" Morgana blushed as she looked up at him, trying to not come off as a stalker.

Merlin's eyes flickered of something, uncertainty, surprise, before smiling and nodding. "Of course."

The waiter settled them down at a table, handing them leather-bound menus.

Unable to contain her curiosity, Morgana leaned forward and asked the question that had been on her mind all night. "So who did you confuse me with? A girlfriend, sister. They must have been important because you looked a little shocked…."

Merlin thought carefully, choosing his words delicately. "She wasn't….my girlfriend. But she was a very dear friend."

"What happened to her?"

"She died."

"I'm sorry."

"No. It's alright. When she died she had become foreign to me. Almost a stranger. You see, we had had a…disagreement, and we never got over it. I think she hated me when she died, which made it hurt more somehow. Because I was robbed of the chance to explain myself and tell her…tell her that I forgave her? I don't know. When I saw you I felt like I was seeing a ghost, like the world had given me a chance to make things right again."

"Did she look a lot like me?"

Merlin smiled softly. "You're almost twins. And you even act like her—well at least the old her."

"How so?"

"You're bold, and funny, and charismatic. The kind of person you can't help but trust. Your eyes are young, untouched by horrors. Like a child's. That's rare in the world." His words were poetic in a way that Morgana wasn't used to, almost like listening to an ancient audiobook.

"I've seen my fair share of shit."

"No, you haven't." Merlin rebutted simply.

Something about his tone told Morgana to change the subject, and so she began to just talk to him. They spoke of the weather, of the times, a little bit of politics. Later about their food, and the evening went on in an easy fashion.

"What are you doing here in London?" Merlin asked, taking a bite out of the chocolate cake they were sharing.

"I'm here as a fashion major on a fieldtrip. Our whole class came out here to look around before heading back home. Term actually ends in a few weeks and then I go back home to Glastonbury."

"You live in Wales? Me too."

"No way! What a coincidence. Where?"

"Near Glastonbury Tor. There's an old lake there. It's kind of in the middle of nowhere—"

"I know that place!" Morgana cut in excitedly. "It's a couple miles out from my little neighborhood. Isn't there some kind of island in the center of it?"

Merlin nod. "That's where I live."

"I never knew anyone was even allowed on there, let alone lived there."

"Yeah, the land has belonged to…my family for centuries and we decided never to open it up. My family has always been a little bit private."

"I can see that." Morgana smiled as Merlin blushed softly. He was warming up to her and Morgana couldn't help but feel a strange attachment to him. Like she knew him better than she really did. Which was stupid of course. She shook away the feeling.

A loud pounding on the restaurant window distracted her, and Morgana turned to see Morgause standing outside in the rain, gesturing at her wildly, and behind her Morgana could see her tour group boarding a bus.

"Shit." She jumped up. "I'm so sorry, but I need to go."

"That's alright, consider dinner my treat for your kindness."

"Thanks," Morgana shrugged on her jacket. "We can exchange numbers-"

"I don't have one. But when you get back home, you know where to find me."

Morgana nodded, staring at him for a moment before Morgause pounded on the window again.

"Ok….bye."

She left the restaurant, running across the street and boarding the bus, sitting quietly through her professor's tirade at her tardiness. Looking out the rain-soaked window, she watched as Merlin left the restaurant, pulling up his dark hood—

-_the cowl shadowed his face as he followed her in the darkness, trying to remain unseen but Morgana could just see him out of the corner of her eye. She smirked confidently. Morgause would deal with him, and so Morgana continued to play at ignorance, letting him shadow her through the dark trees_—

-Morgana clutched her forehead at the fierce pain in her head, sucking in a deep breath. _That was weird. _

That night, Morgana had her first nightmare.

It was two months until she saw him again, but it didn't feel that long. They met up in a café a few minutes away from the lake. He kissed her cheek when she walked over, pulling out her chair, ever the gentleman.

"I've been dreaming about you."

Merlin stiffened, watching her as she nursed a hot coffee. "Really?" he said with a tight smile.

"Ever get those dreams that start out as good dreams but slowly you realize they're nightmares? And you try to wake up but things keep happening and you find yourself trapped by all these demons that are really just products of your own imagination?"

"That sounds terrible." He whispered.

"It's ok, it's not your fault." She said with a smile. "Sorry, I got all grim on you."

Merlin shook his head, but Morgana noticed his knuckles were white as they held his mug. "What are the dreams about."

"They're weird. They seem so real but they're crazy. There's this white castle, and a blonde-haired man who I think is the king. You're there, in the shadows, and I'm wearing these long dresses. Oh, and there are dragons. No dream is complete without dragons."

Suddenly, he jerked up, shoving away from the table. Morgana looked at him wide-eyed.

"Are you ok?"

"Yes, I just remembered that I had…I need to leave."

"Was it something I said?" She asked, hurt.

"No….no, I'll see you later."

Morgana narrowed her eyes, watching him hurry out the door and disappear from sight.

Merlin ran all the way to the lake, sinking to his knees in front of the grey water. "Arthur, I don't know what to do. The closer I get to Morgana the more she remembers. Should I leave, let her live out her years in ignorant bliss? Or is her remembrance inevitable and in leaving I would only repeat my previous sin, to leave her in solitude, confused and unsure. Please, Arthur, I don't know what to do! Help me, please help me." Silence answered him, a small breeze rustling the branches of the tree above him, leaves falling about him as his kneecaps slowly grew cold and wet from the water that seeped through his jeans. "Arthur? Gaius? Father? Gwen? Lancelot? Gawaine? Why have you gone where I can't follow? Why have you left me alone?"

Still nothing. The quiet stabbed him like a red hot blade, and it hurt.

"Why aren't you here? Why won't you answer me? Haven't I done enough? Haven't I suffered enough? I did everything for you! Everything! My entire life I gave to you, all to you! I put everything on the line I SACRIFICED EVERYTHING BUT I STILL HAVEN'T DONE ENOUGH. WHY AM I HERE? WHY HAVE YOU DONE THIS TO ME! I DID EVERYTHING FOR YOU, I DID EVERYTHING AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY ME? THIS IS MY REWARD? I DID EVERYTHING I COULD TO SAVE YOU BUT IT'S NOT MY FAULT YOU DIED. DO YOU HEAR ME? IT'S NOT MY FAULT. I DID EVERYTHING I COULD. IT'S YOUR FAULT FOR PUTTING ALL YOUR FAITH IN A POOR FARM BOY WHO WAS NEVER TRAINED. I WASN'T A SOLDIER, I WASN'T A KING, I WASN'T A PRINCE. I WAS A SERVING BOY AND I DID WHAT I COULD. THE WORLD WASN'T MY PROBLEM. YOU WEREN'T MY PROBLEM. DAMN YOU. DAMN YOU ALL TO HELL…." Merlin choked, falling back on his ankles as he was suddenly struck with exhaustion. His chest rose and fell raggedly with each jagged breath, sobs racking his body. Tears fell from his eyes as he covered his face, shoulders' shaking as the weight of his destiny was forced down on him, and he was left bearing it alone in the growing dark.

That night Morgana couldn't sleep. She tossed and turned, hot and bothered. All she could think about was the look on his face. Honestly, all she could think about was him. His blue eyes. His high cheekbones. _I know him, _she thought, running a hand through her dark hair. _How do I know him?_

Exhausted of thinking, Morgana jumped out of bed, pulling on a thin dress and rainboots before walking out into the cold evening. Rain drizzled softly from the black sky but it didn't bother her, it cooled her feverish skin, but it did little to clear her mind—

-_The one they call Emrys will walk in your shadow. He is your destiny, and he is your doom_-

-Morgana stumbled forward, her boots splashing in the mud as she made her way down to the lake. There was an old, wooden bridge that led to the island in the middle, and she made her way across the sopping wood, arms wrapped tightly around herself. She felt like she was choking, she felt light-headed, she felt lost, she felt confused.

She felt angry.

Morgana pounded on the front door of a small, cottage-like house. He opened the door in a white T-shirt and sweatpants, black hair mussed from sleep, wiping his red-eyes blearily.

"Morgana?"

She shoved past him, watching as he closed the door behind her.

"How do I know you?"

"What?"

"I'D NEVER MET YOU BEFORE ME IN MY LIFE. I'D NEVER SEEN YOU. So why is it that when you randomly bump into me in the street I start recognizing you? I start dreaming about you? It doesn't make sense." She paced wildly across the small living room in front of the door, a thousand knives splitting her temple.

"Morgana—"

"JUST TELL ME THE TRUTH." She screamed at him and he stumbled backwards, flinching at her words. And she felt the weight of them too. They'd been here before, Morgana knew it. She could feel it. "You told me I could trust you. That's what you said."

"I never said—"

"YES, YOU DID. STOP LYING TO ME. I KNOW WHO YOU ARE."

He stiffened. "Who am I?"

She stared at him, breathing heavily. Morgana shook her head and fell heavily onto one of his couches, putting her face in her hands. "I don't know," she whimpered. "I don't know."

Merlin made his way towards her, kneeling in front of her. He took her chin gently in his hands and made her face him. "I was wrong. I don't know you. There is nothing to remember, Morgana. Don't think about it, don't make it take you down this path. Please. It's not worth it."

She looked into his blue eyes, trembling under his fingers. Not thinking, she leaned forward and kissed him softly. Surprised, he stiffened at her touch before kissing her back, wrapping his arms around her. Morgana pulled him closer, threading her fingers in his hair.

He tasted like lightening, he was electric against her. As the distance between them grew smaller and smaller Morgana felt it. A rush. And then she was drowning in memories as an entire life collapsed down on her, and she clung to him like he was her lifeboat on an angry sea. But as the chaos turned to order she remembered. She remembered that he wasn't her lifeboat, he was the storm that tore her apart.

Morgana shoved him away, watching as he fell backwards in shock.

"I know who you are," she whispered.

Merlin held out his hands pleadingly, and she could see in his eyes that he knew. And she knew her eyes told him the same. "Morgana, please—"

She slapped him hard across the face, watched in satisfaction as his head whipped to the side, his pale skin already turned red.

"I'm going to kill you."

"Morgana—"

"Do you remember what you did to me? Do you?"

"Yes."

"Then how do you have the gall to face me?" She spat.

His fury came all at once and he straightened his shoulders, towering over her. "What do you want me to say?!" Merlin shouted, jaw clenched.

"Do you have any idea how many people I watched die? How many I killed and condemned to death or heartbreak? Will, my father, Freya, Lancelot, Elyan, Gawaine, Mordred, Morgause, Kara, Tristan, Isolde, Uther, You….and Arthur." His voice cracked.

"Do you have any idea what it was like that day? It was my duty to protect him and I failed. The moment I had been warned of since I first arrived in Camelot, and when the time came, I failed. Don't spew that shit that Kilgarrah said, how I did my job, that I fulfilled my destiny. My destiny was to protect Arthur and help him build Albion. And yes, we built it, but he never got to see it. He had four years with Gwen, years filled with work and the threat of _you._ And I remember, as I held him in my arms, watching it grow harder and harder for him to breath, to open his eyes, to stay in this world, I saw the future we should have had. The future he should have had. He only really knew me for a day." His voice cracked.

"All those dreams of growing old together, speaking freely with no more lies—all destroyed. He _never _learned all that I had done. All that I had sacrificed. And what was worse than burying him was having to live without him. Having to go back to Camelot and tell my dearest friend that she was a widow, to tell the kingdom that I failed in my one duty to protect their king. I tried to stay there, help Gwen as best I could. But I couldn't do much. Magic was made legal, the only threats were fools who dared to challenge Gwen's right to the crown. I was no longer needed." Merlin laughed, and a tear ran down his face.

"I used to fantasize of days where I had nothing to do, the days when I would no longer be Arthur's servant. But soon I wanted them back, I needed them back, because the truth was I knew nothing else. Some days, passing by an open window, I would hear knights sparring. And I would run as fast as I could to the training grounds because _oh no, I had forgotten training and Arthur was going to have my head._ But when I got there he wouldn't be there. Not him, or Gawaine, or Lancelot, or Elyan. The only faces I recognized would be Leon and Percival, and I could see in their eyes that they felt the same. Even seeing Morded there would have been a blessing, at least his was a face I knew. And as the days passed and the years passed I knew that our story had ended. Our times, our adventures were now passing into legend. But the cruel thing was there were survivors, forced to live into alien times, wasting away and having to watch happy moments pass and remember their own. I felt like I could no longer breathe, like I was drowning with a still beating heart that was only just glued together. "

"And then I saw the wrinkles on my friends' faces and the smoothness of my own and I realized Fate still hadn't played her cruelest card. I was immortal and I watched them die. Everyone I knew and loved. Gaius, Percival, Leon, Guinevere. I attended so many funerals but I remember each one so vividly. Remembrance attacks me and I swear I hear them laughing by my side even though I know their very bones have turned to dust. I watched wars come and go, ages fly by. I watched the world change, felt the magic leave, watched people stop believing in it. The dragons are gone, Camelot is gone, Albion has faded away. But Fate kept me here, to watch the destruction of my world, to render me powerless and placeless in new ages, forced to live forever in solitude and disgrace."

"All that's left now are the stories I wrote and passed down, and I watched people change them as they pleased. But still I carry on, even as empires turn to dust and new ones take their place, I remain. Clinging to that shred of hope that my friend….my _brother_ will come back, that he will return to me and we will live out the days that were robbed us. That perhaps I could tell him all my stories, confess all my lies and sins after so long. But I'm losing faith that I'll see him, everyone, again and tell them how much they meant to me. That they are pieces of me that left jagged and bleeding holes when they left, leaving me empty and lost and alone, living without purpose in a time that doesn't need me, an age that doesn't believe in me."

"So tell me now what you want me to say. Should I apologize? What is worse than the price I already pay? By now I would greet death like an old friend, depart reality with a smile on my lips and the hope of seeing my friends in the afterlife. Perhaps they could forgive me. But even if they couldn't, if they screamed and shouted and damned me I wouldn't feel pain, only joy at seeing their faces, tangible and real before my old eyes. So please, tell me what you want to me say."

He opened his arms wide in surrender, eyes dull. "Do with me as you will. I can promise you that I no longer feel pain, no longer feel joy, only numbness. I am dust. I'm no longer here, not really. I left traces of myself through the centuries, lost my heart and my organs and my mind in the passing of days, and now all that stands before you are whispers of a ghost with a hollow chest who feels nothing but cold."

Morgana stood frozen, staring at him. Centuries seemed to pass by them but Morgana didn't know what to say. She watched his face fall in front of her, watched his gaze soften.

"Morgana, maybe this is our second chance. Our chance to make things right again, go back to what we once were before the lies and the betrayal. We could rewrite our story, go back to the start. Begin again. You and me in this new world, forget the past." He extended a hesitant hand. "Please, Morgana. Help me make this right."

She ignored his outstretched hand and moved instead to wrap her arms around him, burying her head in his shoulder and listening to his trembling heartbeat. They held each other, and outside the rain stopped pouring, and dawn crept through the grey clouds.

_**1 year later**_

They were in the grocery store when they saw him. Morgana was picking out strawberries when she felt Merlin stiffen beside her, staring at someone a few feet away.

He was picking out milk, blonde hair messy, wearing a bright-red hoodie and torn jeans. Morgana gently pushed Merlin forward, watched from the side as he introduced himself to the blonde haired man at the milk aisle.

Eventually, he waved her forward, smiling. "Morgana, this is Arthur. He's moved into the flat across from us. Arthur, let me introduce my fiancé."

**2 years later**

"What are you writing?" Morgana asked, coming to sit beside him. Merlin tilted his computer screen so that she could see it.

_It's been difficult accustoming to these growing days. We don't belong here, here where there is no magic, no adventure, no knights in shining armor. These days are too new for us, and sometimes the contradiction of the two lives we live—the one we remember and the one we live, becomes too much. But we are coping. Slowly, we are finding our place in this world, and even though it's hard, we manage. We have to. Arthur teaches football in the park, Gwen helps at a nursing home, Morgana runs an old antique shop, I write. They're unextraordinary jobs, a far cry from the kingdoms and dragons we used to command._

_Every now and then Arthur and I will go riding in the country, where the reaches of this new world haven't touched. The woods are still the same, and some days as we gallop through the trees, rays of sunlight seeping from the thick canopy, in my mind, for a short moment, we are hunting. Arthur holds his crossbow loose in one hand, reins in the other as he guides his mount effortlessly over roots and ditches. If I turn my head I can see his cloak. Bright scarlet and billowing behind him, the emblem of Camelot rippling at its center. But then the image is gone, and Arthur is back in his red hoodie, and an airplane flies overhead. When I catch his eye I can see that he's been thinking the same, and I wonder if he sees a red scarf wrapped around where my neck is now bare. _

_As I said, it's been hard. Hundreds of times each day I wish for home, where the city air is rich with the smell of baking bread, where the castle shines white in the afternoon sun. But I know those days are over now, gone with time, and instead we have a second chance in this iron age. _

_I'm not alone anymore, and so I cling to them, the remnants of my old life, and together we hold each other, making new memories in this strange new world that hopefully, someday, we may come to call home. _

"Our story." He said when she looked back at him in surprise.

"Doesn't it hurt?"

"It's painful and bitter but it's worth it. I write it down as best as I can, as truthfully as I can. I capture our memories on dry pages so that they'll outlive us. This story about us, our loves and our triumphs and our defeats and our hopes and our screams and these dreams we cling to until their edges fray. I've begun to realize that it's not just our story, but the story of everyone. These little letters could never hope to capture it perfectly, but then again maybe imperfection is really perfect, and then again maybe it doesn't matter so long as you remember when you read it. So long as you understand. Understand that in the chaos of my time on this earth, you had a part to play, whether it hurt or healed, and I am grateful. Hopefully, and I say this with my fingers crossed so tightly it hurts, someone else might learn from our story, relate to it, make it theirs. This story about a perfect life, an utterly normal life, that was extraordinary because it was simply that. This magnificent, crazed life that might not seem like much. Its dragons live only in subtext and its heroes don't wear armor, but somehow this average life dreamed of being an adventure and so it became one. And it is an adventure I'm glad to have shared with you."

Morgana smiled, reaching over and squeezing his hand, before looking back at him in confusion. "Will this be the last page?"

"No, it's the first page. This is our life now," he said, gesturing around him. "This is our story. And so I'm starting here, and I'm crossing my fingers that it won't be another tragedy."

"It won't be," Morgana whispered softly. "We won't let it be."

She leaned over and kissed him softly, and he tasted like lightening, and he was electric on her skin, and she was drowning in his arms and clinging to him like he was a lifeboat on an angry sea. And he was.

**I found this on my computer gathering cyber-dust and posted it. It wasn't completed hence all the time jumps and it was previously meant to be long and epic before life got in the way. However, I hope you still liked it despite all that. But, if you do want more of this universe, I could still expand it and make it longer if you really want me to, but until then it'll just stay like this. Reviews make my day, as always, and thank you for taking the time out of your day to read this! Long live Mergana!**


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